Secrets of the Silent Witch - Volume 2 - Chapter Pr

PROLOGUE

A Little Weekend Challenge

The dormitories at Serendia Academy, an elite institution in the Kingdom of Ridill, were replete with tearooms and lounges where lively voices could always be heard, even on days off from school. That was especially true for the girls’ dorm, where noble young ladies shed their school uniforms for the weekend and donned flowery dresses to hold tea parties or enjoy some light conversation in elegance.

One girl, however, was trying to walk as quietly as she could right past one of these tearooms. She was short and had her light-brown hair tied into a single braid; she also wore her school uniform despite it being the weekend.

Serendia Academy allowed students to add things like ribbons and frills to their uniforms and to freely accessorize. This girl’s uniform, however, was the same as when she’d received it. She wore no accessories of any kind, either—the only decorative item on her person was the ribbon tying her hair. As she snuck down the hallway, the girl kept her head lowered so as not to meet anyone’s eyes.

Before long, however, three girls in gorgeous dresses blocked her way.

“Good day, Lady Monica Norton. How do you do?” one of them asked.

The girl she’d spoken to—Monica—gave a start, then paused in front of them. Keeping her head down, she glanced up through her bangs at the people barring her passage. All three of them were her classmates. The one standing in front was named Caroline Simmons. When Monica had first entered the academy, Caroline had caused her to tumble down the stairs. Monica opened and closed her mouth, trying to squeeze out a polite greeting.

Caroline’s slender brow furrowed. “Oh my. Why on earth are you wearing your uniform? It’s the weekend, you know.”

“I, ummm… Well…”

All the female students living in the dormitory wore their own dresses on the weekends, which made Monica’s school uniform stick out like a sore thumb. She had brought only the bare necessities with her, and aside from her uniform, her only choice would be to wear her usual baggy robe.

As Monica stammered, looking down at the floor, Caroline’s two followers began to titter.

“Could she have mistaken today for a school day?” asked one.

“Oh, you mustn’t tease her like that,” the other remarked. “She probably doesn’t have any other clothing.”

“And to think, they chose her as a student council member. It really must be some sort of mistake.”

Monica bit her lip and said nothing as the girls giggled from behind their folding fans.

As she hung her head in silence, a piercing voice rang out from behind Caroline and the others. “Oh! And what, pray tell, is going on here?”

A girl with curled orange hair approached them. Her name was Isabelle Norton. She was the daughter of Count Kerbeck—and Monica’s collaborator here at the academy.

She seemed to have grasped the situation with a single glance. “I do beg your pardon,” she said to Caroline’s group, moving between them and Monica. And then, with the face of a terribly wicked, spoiled young girl, she looked at Monica and shouted, “I told you to go shopping, didn’t I? Why are you still loitering about here?! Slower and dumber than a donkey, as always!”

Monica, frightened, looked at Isabelle, who gave her a furtive wink; her back was turned to the other girls.

“Those things aren’t going to buy themselves,” continued Isabelle. “And I won’t tolerate you missing even a single thing on the list!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” Monica nodded, mentally thanking the other girl as she fled the scene.

Once she’d gotten outside the dormitory, she breathed a long sigh and brushed the sweat off her forehead. There was plain exhaustion written across her still-youthful face.

“Yo, Monica. How are you so tired just from leaving the dormitory?” An astonished voice sounded from down at her feet.

Monica turned to see a black cat with glossy fur looking up at her, its golden eyes narrowed.

After making sure nobody was around, Monica squatted and met the cat’s eyes. “Nero,” she said. “I already feel accomplished just having made it outside on a weekend, so… Can I go back now?”

“You’re going shopping! You promised to buy me something tasty at a food stand, remember?” Nero circled around behind Monica’s stooped form and patted her rear with his front paw to hurry her along. “You know the prince is going to be in his dorm all day. It’s the perfect time for a bodyguard like you to relax and do some shopping in town! If you miss this chance, who knows when you’ll get another?”

Monica moaned. “Yes…but…”

She was already out of breath, and all she’d done was leave the dormitory on a weekend. And yet, she was one of the Kingdom of Ridill’s greatest magicians, dispatched on a mission to guard the second prince. She was one of the Seven Sages—the Silent Witch, Monica Everett. The cat patting her on the bottom with his paw was her familiar, Nero.

Monica’s mission was top secret: She needed to guard the second prince without him or any of the other students finding out. To that end, she was now living as a student at Serendia Academy under the name Monica Norton… Unfortunately, she was hopelessly shy.

Her inability to speak in front of others was the very reason she’d mastered the art of unchanted magecraft and why, after becoming a Sage, she had holed up in a mountain cabin and spent all her time on research. She would have had less trouble charging into a horde of dragons than going on a weekend shopping trip.

“I still want to go home…,” she murmured.

Nero looked at her in amazement. “Don’t you normally leave the dorm to walk to your classroom?”

“W-weekends are different! There are more people in the hallways, and I’m the only one in a uniform, so everyone stares at me when I pass by…”

Nero was about to reply to her string of excuses when he suddenly perked up his ears and dove into a nearby bush. Before Monica could call out his name, someone called hers instead.

“Oh. Is that you, Monica?”

She turned around and saw a girl with flaxen hair—her classmate Lana Colette. Monica was used to seeing her in her school uniform, but now even she was wearing a dress of her own, holding a parasol in her hands. The elegant velvet dress was a deep red, like wine, which suited her fair complexion and slender features.

“It’s rare to see you out and about on a day off. Are you going somewhere, too?”

“Ummm…shopping,” said Monica, fiddling with her fingers. “…I wanted, er, a comb.”

Lana’s eyes glittered. “What a coincidence! I was just about to go shopping for a new accessory myself. Let’s go together,” she suggested, twirling her ribbon-adorned parasol with excitement. “I know a wonderful shop with the cutest combs made of silver and ivory!”

Monica wasn’t sure what to say. Wherever Lana wanted to go, it was probably a first-rate boutique that dealt in fine and precious metals. A plain girl like Monica would definitely be out of place there. Lana would be embarrassed having her around.

“…I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I’m…going by, um, myself.”

This clearly upset Lana. She pursed her lips and turned away slightly. “Oh. Well, fine, then,” she said before briskly passing Monica and boarding a carriage waiting outside the gate.

As Monica idly watched the carriage drive off, Nero poked his face out of the bush. “You sure you don’t want to go with her?” he asked.

“…I wouldn’t fit in at the shops she’s going to.”

Telling herself it was better this way, Monica started walking toward town, her legs sluggish.

About an hour’s walk from Serendia Academy was a town called Craeme. It was situated on the side of a major road and relatively prosperous, and it had a brick clock tower at its center. This wasn’t a clock tower like you might find as an add-on to a church or a library but a separate building all its own, which was a bit unusual.

“Wow. Look at that clock tower…”

As she gazed up at the structure, Monica would have looked to passersby like a child admiring a grand building. But in reality, equations were racing about in her mind at a dizzying clip.

Architecture and mathematics were inseparable. Even the way bricks were laid one atop the other was governed by precise calculations and incorporated clever designs meant to withstand impacts.

Ah, how beautiful the world of numbers is! thought Monica as she stared up at the splendid tower, retreating into her mind—there were so many people on the streets, Monica was already trying to escape reality. When she slowly lowered her gaze from the clock tower, all she could see were people, people, and more people.

C-could my school uniform be making me stand out? Well, I guess a Serendia Academy student would stand out regardless… Ahhh, I should have brought a coat…!

Legs trembling, Monica moved into the shadow of a building and wiped the sweat off her brow. The short trip here alone seemed to have drained all her stamina for the day.

As she caught her breath, Nero smacked her in the leg with his tail. “Hey, Monica, get with the shopping already.”

“I—I think I’ll, um, go home after all…”

“Don’t even joke! I’ve already decided I’m eating meat today!”

“Yeah, but…,” whined Monica.

Nero snorted, displeased, and turned his back to her. “Then I’ll just have to go make the rounds on my own. See ya.” And with that, he jumped up onto a nearby roof.

Monica frantically tried to follow him, but he was out of sight within seconds. “W-wait…! No, please, don’t leave me… Nero…!”

Half crying, she burst out from the shade of the building, only to freeze under the eyes of the crowd. Even though she knew their gazes weren’t all malicious, Monica started to choke and breathe irregularly. Her breaths came shallow and staccato. She was quickly getting dizzy.

She squatted down to the ground, covered her ears, and closed her eyes. By shutting out all outside sources of information and focusing on numbers, she was able to distract herself, if only a little.

…I can’t keep doing this, she thought to herself. I know I have to stand up and walk on my own two feet. But…

As she tried to force her trembling legs to move so she could stand, someone patted her on the shoulder. She gasped in fright and shut her eyes before gradually prying them open again.

“You all right?”

She looked up and met the gaze of a young man with dirty-blond hair, who was squatting beside her worriedly. He looked to be about her age and was wearing clothing that seemed easy to move around in, a bag over his shoulder.

“Do you feel sick?” he asked.

A soft grown was all Monica could manage. For her, speaking to someone for the first time was pure anguish.

But this person was concerned about her. I have to say something, she thought, her trembling lips finally moving.

“Um, I—I got separated from…um, Nero… He’s a cat…”

“What does he look like?”

“…He’s black with, um, golden eyes.”

The young man hummed and nodded, then shot to his feet and gave Monica a toothy grin. “I’ll just have a quick fly around, so you wait right here!” he said before beginning to mutter something under his breath.

When she heard it, Monica’s eyes flew open. It was the chant for a spell.

And not just any spell…! she thought. As the boy’s chant ended, the wind began to whip up around him. With a quick grunt, he kicked off the ground and leaped upward, reaching higher than the rooftops.

This was flight magecraft. Though it allowed one to conveniently fly through the air, it consumed a large amount of mana, and you needed a good sense of balance for it. Monica couldn’t use the spell—mainly for the latter reason. But even among high mages, not many could use flight magecraft; the people on the streets watched with interest as the young man flit across the rooftops.

He shaded his eyes with his hand and took a look around, eventually making a quick landing on a nearby red rooftop. She heard the words “Caught you!” from overhead, along with the angry cry of a cat.

A few minutes later, the young man slowly alighted from the rooftop with Nero cradled in his arms.

“I found him wandering around up there,” he said, pointing to the top of a building not far from where Monica had been squatting. “Is it Nero?”

Nero must have been watching her from above. Uncomfortable in the young man’s arms, the cat turned his cheek and swung his tail.

“…I’m sorry, Nero,” Monica said.

The cat looked at her and meowed, as if to say, Whatever, it’s fine.

Just then, they heard a large bell start to ring. Its clangs were wild and urgent—this wasn’t intended to mark the time. This meant there was an emergency.

“Dragon!” someone yelled. “A stray dragon has appeared near town!”

Everyone panicked and began to run. Those with open-air shops rushed to pack away their wares.

Dragons were mostly seen among the mountains to the east of the kingdom, but all too often, one would drift away from their horde and end up here in the flatlands.

The town was surrounded by a stone wall, but a winged dragon could easily fly over it, and frequently, those without wings would simply tear it down to get inside.

Amid the panic, the young man with dirty-blond hair handed Nero off to Monica and began chanting rapidly. “I’m going to see what’s happening!” he said. “You evacuate to the center of town!”

With that, he leaped toward the front gates with another flight spell, leaving Monica behind.

Nero whispered from his place in her arms. “Hey, Monica. What are you gonna do?”

A town of this size would have a considerable defense force, but since this was an area with few dragonraids, she doubted they had the necessary equipment to slay dragons. At the same time, it would take too long to call for help from the experts—the Dragon Knights, who were stationed at the royal capital.

…What am I going to do? she repeated to herself. I guess…there’s only one choice.

A dragon could wave its tail on a whim and cause massive damage. Lana had come here to shop, too, meaning she could get caught up in the attack. And above all, Monica was the second prince’s guard. If there was any chance the stray dragon might suddenly head for Serendia Academy, it meant the prince was in danger. She couldn’t ignore this.

Everyone was moving as fast as they could toward the center of town or fleeing into buildings. Amid the chaos, Monica slowly raised her head and asked, “Nero, do you know the location and type of the dragon?”

“I don’t feel that much mana from it, so it’s probably a lesser dragon. Can’t give you a precise location, but it’s in that direction,” he said, twitching his pointed ears toward the front gates.

If it was a lesser dragon, it was probably either a pterodragon, an earth dragon, or a fire dragon. While these were inferior to greater dragons, their hard scales could still deflect both blades and offensive magecraft, making them powerful opponents. To reliably take one out, you had to aim right between their eyes.

“I need to find some place high up, with a good view and not many people…,” said Monica, looking around.

Her eyes stopped on the brick clock tower. Nero jumped from her arms to the ground, and after making sure nobody was nearby, he looked up at Monica and smirked. “You’re gonna do it?”

“…Yes. I have to,” she said, partly to herself. Her face was filled with determination as she ran off toward the clock tower…

“Ah, that was too sudden… My side, it’s…it’s cramping… Ugh…”

“Wow… You really need to exercise more,” retorted her familiar.

The top mage in the kingdom clutched her side as she continued to run, wheezing out complaints. Her gait was hopelessly clumsy—more like tottering than running.

Nero sighed, unable to watch. He checked around, and seeing that everyone was gone, he swished his tail. A black fog immediately surrounded him, then rapidly expanded and took on the shape of a person. Eventually, the fog dissipated like water washing away black ink, and from underneath emerged a dark-haired man in an old-fashioned robe. Nero had assumed his human form.

Now a tall man, he grabbed Monica by the nape of her neck and tossed her over his shoulder like a hemp bag full of wheat.

“You’re such a slave driver, Master!” he said. “Hang on tight, you hear?”

“Wh-where am I supposed to hold on to?!”

“Anywhere that works! Just grab hold!” replied Nero, rushing off like the wind.

Nero was quite tall in his human form. Monica, slung over his shoulder, found herself dizzy from the height. It was scary. For now, she tightly gripped the fabric on the back of Nero’s robe and clenched her teeth. If she hadn’t, she might have easily bitten her tongue.

Eventually, they arrived at the clock tower, which was—obviously—locked tight. It had no glass panes or gratings, and while there was a window for letting in light, it was pretty high up on the second floor. They wouldn’t be able to jump up there.

Monica’s expression turned hopeless—she hadn’t even considered the possibility that the tower would be locked.

Nero, though, took one look up at the window and grinned. “True growth comes only after one’s limits are broken,” he quoted. “Dustin Gunther, novelist. Pretty cool, huh? What a great line!”

“N-Nero, you’re not about to—?”

“Well, I can’t exactly use that magical flying stuff, can I?”

With Monica still over his shoulder, Nero nimbly climbed up a nearby tree, then jumped from a branch to the roof of a house. Monica shrieked every time Nero lurched and swung her around—though her fears hardly ended there.

The distance between the rooftop and the clock-tower window was large enough that it would have challenged even someone with a running start and good physical abilities.

“N-Nero, it’s, it’s too far—” she stammered.

“Heeere weee gooo…!”

Nero crouched, using his whole body as a spring, leaping off the roof without even a running start. The two of them passed through the small window before landing inside the clock tower. The noise from Nero’s boots scraping on the ground echoed through the building.

Straightening up, Nero turned around and said to an exhausted Monica, “Did you see that? I’ve been cultivating my incredible jumping skills every day as a cat! I’ve gotta be the coolest ever! It’s like I’m the main character of a story now! Yo, Monica, quit it with that blank stare and say something. A compliment, to be specific! Hey! Monica?!”

Monica, who had been half passed out over Nero’s shoulder, finally began to regain consciousness and sluggishly moved her head from side to side, surveying their surroundings.

There weren’t any sources of light in the clock tower; the only illumination was coming from that window meant to let in the sun. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw a spiral staircase leading to the top of the tower.

“Nero… Go up…”

“Oh, right. Dragons and all that.”

It seemed Nero had almost forgotten why they’d come in here in the first place. With a grunt, he adjusted Monica on his shoulder, then used his long legs to dash up the stairs two at a time. Monica’s limbs flailed as she desperately tried to stop herself from passing out.

“And we’re here!”

At last, they reached the very top of the clock tower, right behind the clock itself. Nero let Monica down. The top floor had many windows for ventilation, which gave a great view of the outside. Monica wobbled over to one and silently cast a farsight spell.

She could see a dragon with brownish scales a fair distance away from the town. It looked about two sizes bigger than a bull.

“…That’s an earth dragon.”

“Just as I thought. It’s a lesser dragon but still pretty sturdy. You’d need to land quite the blow to do any real damage to it.”

Earth dragons had no wings and couldn’t fly, but the sharp claws protruding from their heavy limbs were threatening enough on their own.

Next to the dragon, a dozen or so soldiers were fighting it with arrows and spears. And there was one more figure, flitting through the air above the earth dragon. With her farsight spell, Monica could clearly make him out—it was the young man with dirty-blond hair who had found Nero for her earlier.

He was using his magecraft to fly around the earth dragon, trying to draw its attacks away from the soldiers on the ground. When he had the chance, he’d land and use a fireball spell to attack it directly. His fireballs were about the size of a circle formed by two adults joining hands. They created powerful, flashy explosions, but dragons were resistant to mana. His attacks weren’t even slowing this one down.

Even against lesser dragons, one had to use high-powered spells and aim directly between their eyes. Otherwise, defeating one was impossible. The only person with offensive magecraft powerful enough to take on a dragon without such precise aim was the Artillery Mage, one of the Seven Sages.

While Monica tried to get a handle on the situation using her farsight, Nero rested his jaw on her head and narrowed his eyes. His sight was good enough that he didn’t need to use any spells.

“Hey, Monica,” he said. “That guy. Why isn’t he attacking from the air?”

As Nero pointed out, the boy would land every time he wanted to use an offensive spell. Then, when he was finished, he’d take to the air again and evade the earth dragon’s attacks. It must have struck her familiar as inefficient.

“It’s really hard to maintain two spells at the same time,” she explained.

“Huh,” said Nero, nodding significantly. “You do it all the time, so I figured all mages could.”

Rather than respond to Nero’s banter, Monica maintained her farsight spell and calculated the distance between the clock tower and the earth dragon. The dragon, the young man, and the young man’s fireball—she quietly waited until the moment all three lined up perfectly.

She stood, unblinking, even as a gust of wind blew in from the window and caused her hair to sway. Her usual childlike, nervous expression melted from her face. Her brownish eyes reflected the sunlight, sparkling and turning the color of fresh grass.

The moment came.

…There it is.

Damn it, damn it, damn it! Nothing I do is working! thought the young man in a panic as he evaded the dragon’s attack with his flight spell. His offensive magecraft hadn’t done any damage at all.

A middle-aged soldier with a bow and arrow called up to him, worry evident on his face. “Are you all right?!”

“Everything’s fine up here!”

The young man didn’t know any of the Craeme soldiers—he wasn’t even from Craeme to begin with. He was just an apprentice mage passing through town who had run to the scene of the emergency.

As an apprentice, he could use only two spells: the flight spell and the one to launch fireballs. Not only was he unable to use them simultaneously, but his fireballs also had a short range and low precision. He was confident in their power, at least, so he’d figured getting a hit in would do some damage. Unfortunately, his fire had barely singed the earth dragon’s scales. He’d have to aim between the eyes.

I should have spent more time practicing accuracy like my master said! he thought in regret as he ran along the ground, chanting rapidly.

Chanting was such a nuisance. He couldn’t use other spells while flying, so when he wanted to attack, he had to run this way and that to evade. Chanting while sprinting at top speed was no easy task.

Completely out of breath, he managed to finish the chant and weave the spell. Then he took aim at the earth dragon’s eyes and shot off an extra-large fireball.

It struck the earth dragon in the side of the face, thundering and scattering embers everywhere. But that was it.

It’s not working… I can’t hit it between the eyes!

But there was something that nobody present realized—not the hopeless young man, nor any of the soldiers. In the shadow of the young man’s fireball, a flaming arrow had appeared.

It was slender, like a twig, and it had blended right in with the brilliant flying sparks. But its mana density was high, having been bolstered by a multilayered reinforcement spell, and it packed far more power than the fireball.

The slender arrow pierced the earth dragon between its eyes with terrible silence and precision. The dragon let out a roar, then tumbled to the ground with a loud thump, whipping up dirt and dust.

The soldiers, who had been holding their collective breaths as they watched it collapse, all let out a cheer.

“We did it! We killed it!”

“You really pulled it off!”

The soldiers’ faces broke out into smiles as they clapped the young man on the back and praised him.

The young man looked at the felled dragon in disbelief. There was a black scorch mark between its eyes. It had definitely been killed by fire magecraft.

“Heh, heh-heh… Nah, it was just a lucky hit,” he said humbly, unable to keep the joy from creeping onto his face.

From her vantage point at the clock-tower window, Monica confirmed that the dragon had stopped moving completely before releasing her farsight spell.

“Is it over?” asked Nero.

“Yeah.”

Striking a dragon between the eyes with an offensive spell wasn’t difficult for Monica. But taking one down without anyone realizing and with several others already engaging it was a lot more difficult.

Monica’s solution had been remote magecraft.

In general, the effects of magecraft were centered on the caster. But by embedding a type of magical formula called a remote formula, the mage could trigger a spell at a distant location. Monica had matched her timing with one of the young man’s attacks, firing a flaming arrow with remote magecraft to pierce the dragon between its eyes.

This kind of spell might seem extraordinarily powerful and convenient at first glance, but it came with an extreme drop in precision. And Monica had used it all without chanting. Anyone who knew anything about magecraft would have been dumbfounded at the miraculous feat.

The witch who had produced this unseen miracle let her gaze drift up to her familiar, who was still resting his jaw on her head.

“…Nero, you’re heavy.”

“Ha! Not exactly the thanks I was hoping for after carrying you all the way up here,” he responded spitefully, rubbing his jaw on her head. He seemed to think he deserved all the credit. “I worked hard today. Time for that reward, Master. I vote for chicken. Heavily salted.”

“I wonder if anyone’s selling that…” The dragon’s appearance had thrown the town into disarray. She doubted anyone was reckless enough to have kept their stall open.

As Monica mulled this over, Nero directed his gaze to the scenery below them. “Hey, check it out,” he said.

Word of the dragon’s defeat must have spread quickly, because the townspeople were gradually settling down again. Open-air stores and street stalls had reopened, and some people were even hurrying toward the edge of town to try and grab a few of the dragon’s scales.

“Humans are really tough, huh?” remarked Nero.

“Well, I’m not…” Monica sulked.

Nero grabbed Monica’s head and tilted it upward. He grinned, peering at her face from directly above. “Anyway, haven’t you noticed?”

“…? Noticed what?”

“I’m right here next to you, in human form, and you’re totally fine with it.”

Monica’s eyes widened in realization. Though she was extremely shy around everyone, she had an especially hard time with tall men. Until a little while ago, she couldn’t even look directly at Nero in his human form, and even a little touch would start her trembling uncontrollably.

But at some point, she’d become fine with it.

“Looks like you’ve gotten a little tougher yourself, huh?” commented Nero.

“I don’t know…,” she replied without confidence, though the tension in her face lessened just a little.

…I sure hope so, though, she thought to herself.

“Lady Lana, it seems the dragon has been safely dispatched.”

“…I see.”

Lana gave a curt response to the middle-aged servant woman seated next to her in the carriage. Then, leaning back against a cushion, her face resting in the palm of her hand, she turned to look out the window. The town had fallen deathly quiet just minutes ago, but people were already starting to return. She searched the flow of traffic but didn’t see Monica anywhere.

…I wonder if she’s all right.

They were saying the dragon had been slain before getting close to the main road, so there wasn’t much chance Monica had been caught up in it. Still, she was worried about her. She could easily imagine the slow-witted Monica being swept up into the evacuating crowd, falling down, and starting to cry.

To cover up her anxiety, Lana took on an even stiffer tone as she spoke to her servant. “Ugh. Today is the worst! I was looking forward to shopping, but I can’t find anything good, and then a dragon shows up. And…”

She lowered her gaze to her hands. As she did, the strength in her voice withered. “…It seems like Monica doesn’t want to go shopping with me,” she said, sullen.

The middle-aged servant smiled warmly, as though she was looking at a young child. She’d witnessed the exchange between Lana and her friend from in front of the carriage. This friend didn’t wear a dress even on the weekends, nor any accessories.

She had a feeling she understood what had been bothering the small girl.

“I think maybe your friend didn’t really want a silverwork comb,” the servant suggested.

“……”

“I, for one, use combs carved from wood.”

Lana gave a start. For a few moments, she sat there awkwardly, seeming conflicted. Soon, though, she sharply lifted her jaw. “I feel like eating some roast chestnuts,” she said haughtily. “Bring me to the food stalls.”

“Yes, yes. Right away, madam.”

The girl had been the servant’s charge for many years now, and she knew her well. She calmly smiled at this selfish request and gave the driver directions.

With some pocket change from Monica in hand, Nero, still in human form, headed off for the street stalls in a good mood. Monica watched him go, leaning against a roadside tree.

…Come to think of it, I came here to buy a comb, didn’t I…?

Belatedly, she remembered why she had come to town and sighed. She was currently sitting under a tree on a smaller street, away from the main road. It was all she could do right now to sit still there and hide. Apparently, she hadn’t been ready yet for the trial of asking directions and shopping for a comb. With a pained smile, she decided to leave the comb for next time.

Just then, a voice called her name—and it wasn’t Nero’s.

“Monica! I finally found you!”

Monica looked in the direction of the voice and saw Lana climb out of a carriage and rush over to her.

Remembering their conversation this morning, Monica’s face automatically tensed. She’d made Lana unhappy. She must be angry. She certainly looked angry—she was staring at Monica, scowling.

Monica fiddled with her fingers and let her gaze drift, and Lana, looking peeved, pushed a small paper bag into Monica’s hands. As she helplessly accepted it, Monica’s eyes widened. She looked inside and saw it was filled with round roasted chestnuts.

“I got tired of eating them, so I don’t need them anymore. You can have them.”

Despite Lana’s claim, the package was almost full. And it was still warm, like she’d just bought it.

“Oh, um… Er…” As Monica tried to stammer out a thanks, she noticed a simple map of some sort drawn on the paper wrapping. She figured it marked the location of the roasted-chestnut shop, but upon closer inspection, it had the name of a road and the words sundries shop on it. “…A sundries shop?”

“Apparently, such places also stock carved, wooden combs,” said Lana, sullenly turning her cheek. Said cheek showed just a hint of red.

Monica clutched the warm packet to her chest and opened her mouth to speak.

“U-um…!” For some reason, the voice that came out was so loud, she could scarcely believe it was hers. Nero’s words came to mind: Looks like you’ve gotten a little tougher yourself, huh?

If she really had grown, she should be able to say it. Psyching herself up, she forced out the words. “I, um, want to……go with you…”

Monica glanced at Lana and saw the corners of her lips twitching for some reason.

“Well, if you insist, I suppose I can go with you! Come on—this way!”

“O-okay!”

Lana smiled haughtily and pulled Monica along by the hand, leading her out from the shade of the tree.

Places with a lot of people still frightened her, but strangely, Monica found herself now able to walk without looking down.

She felt as though a path that had previously been closed off had suddenly opened itself up to her.

“This one and this one… Oh, and this cape is just so adorable. Let’s buy it.”

Louis Miller was happily shopping at a clothing store in the royal capital. At twenty-seven years old, he was a happy feller and soon-to-be father, and one of the Seven Sages known as the Barrier Mage.

When on the job, he would wear his Sage’s robe and carry a long staff. Today, though, he had cast off his heavy robe and donned an autumn coat instead. Each time he took a lighthearted step through the store, his coat hem and long, trademark braid would bob and sway as if to express his joy.

The items in his hands were all clothing for his child who would soon be born.

Seeing the pile on the counter steadily grow in both size and cost, the beauty in the maid’s outfit accompanying him—his contracted spirit, Rynzbelfeid, nicknamed Ryn—spoke up.

“I notice these clothes are all for little girls.”

As Ryn had just pointed out, all the clothing Louis had selected was fully decked out with frills and ribbons. She was implying he was getting ahead of himself, since the child’s birth was still almost six months away, and they didn’t know the baby’s gender yet.

Louis, picking out a pair of lacework shoes, gave a prideful sniff. “The child will surely be an adorable girl who takes after Rosalie.”

“Do you have a basis for that statement?”

“My gut feeling almost never lets me down.”

After stacking up a big pile of clothing for his future daughter on the counter, making no effort to hide his elation, the mage began hunting for clothing a teenage girl might like.

“I think it’s far too soon for that, don’t you?” said Ryn in a monotone.

“You misunderstand,” responded Louis smoothly. “These are for the Silent Witch.”

Ryn’s eyes opened just a little wider. As a wind spirit, she had different sensitivities from humans, and the expression on her attractive face almost never changed. Apparently, Louis’s statement had been surprising even to her. “My…,” she said, the single word rich in emotion.

Louis raised his slender eyebrows and stared at his contracted spirit. “Do you actually think I’m a cold-blooded, heartless person?”

“I believe that threatening a colleague and forcing her to do a job for you would generally be considered cold-blooded and heartless.”

“It’s called using the right people for the right tasks.”

The man who had indeed threatened his colleague and forced her to take on a mission to guard the second prince offered his servant a refreshing smile and began to search for a dress suitable for everyday use.

This was to be a reward for the Silent Witch.

It had been approximately two weeks since Monica had entered Serendia Academy. In that short amount of time, she’d been selected for the student council and even managed to capture a criminal using forbidden magecraft at the academy.

Monica wasn’t especially proud of her accomplishments, but she’d done more than enough to deserve praise. Good results warranted suitable rewards.

And for that reason, Louis had chosen to buy her new clothes. Knowing Monica, she probably didn’t have any decent clothing. Guessing that would cause problems for her at the academy, Louis had decided to pick out a few practical outfits. But only because he was already buying clothing for his daughter, of course.

…Although that senseless girl would probably be happier to receive books on mathematics or magecraft, he thought, picking up a dress that seemed appropriate for regular wear.

While undercover at the academy, Monica was playing the part of a foster daughter alienated from House Kerbeck. Best to stick with something plain, he thought. He picked out a high-necked navy dress she could wear to go out during the day, as well as an outdoor coat perfect for the season.

After paying for it all, he loaded everything into the carriage, then got in himself.

Louis waited for the carriage to start moving before giving an order to Ryn, who sat next to him. “Deliver these clothes to the Silent Witch as soon as you’re able.”

“What shall I tell her when I do so?” asked Ryn.

He thought for a moment, then said, “I suppose you can tell her it’s a reward for capturing Victor Thornlee. You have to know when to punish and when to praise, after all. Ha-ha-ha.”

“Understood. I will convey your message to the letter. Should we send nothing to the other one?”

“The other one? …Oh, you mean my apprentice.”

When Louis had sent Monica to Serendia Academy, he’d dispatched his own apprentice along with her. The second prince Felix Arc Ridill’s senses were sharp, and he was excellent at rooting out those around him with ulterior motives, whether their aim was to guard or to kill him. It was only natural he’d be suspicious of a new student. So Louis had sent his own apprentice to the school as a decoy, in order to divert Felix’s suspicions away from Monica.

Ryn was asking whether they should deliver anything to this apprentice, but Louis shook his head. “No need to go that far. That idiot doesn’t know anything, after all.”

“Have you not mentioned the decoy plan? Or the mission to guard the prince?”

“He’s a terrible liar, and anyway, even without my instruction, he’ll be an excellent decoy. He’s a total problem child, after all—huge build, huge voice…and responsible for destroying a school building at Minerva’s once. Ha-ha-ha.”

The smile that came to Louis’s beautiful, feminine face was refreshing, but his words were villainous.

“I believe that using an ignorant apprentice as a decoy would generally be considered cold-blooded and heartless,” said Ryn.

Louis shrugged. Her words had no effect on him. “It’s a master’s job to spur their apprentice’s growth. And growth always wants for suitable trials.”

News that a dragon had appeared near the town of Craeme quickly made its way to Serendia Academy. Though it rattled the students’ relaxing day off, once they’d learned the dragon had been slain, they went about their weekend like nothing had happened.

A single person watched all this, biting their lip.

…So, they thought, this is the reaction of central nobles who barely feel the cost of dragonraids.

The heartland of the Kingdom of Ridill, centered around the royal capital, was home to the Dragon Knights—a group of expert dragon slayers—and the Magic Corps, who valued skill over politics. Thus, those of this region felt little threat from dragons.

For people from the east, who had to constantly worry about dragonraids, the sight of the center nobles living in peace and security inspired no small amount of envy.

The news said that a passing mage had easily slain the dragon in Craeme. They wondered what would have happened if the incident had taken place back in their hometown. How much would they and their fellows have needed to sacrifice to slay a single earth dragon? How much human blood would have been shed?

Mages were a rare sight in the countryside—and there weren’t many skilled enough to fell dragons in the first place. But here, in the center territories, skilled mages were lazing about all over.

Though the eastern regions were bearing the terrible brunt of the dragonraids, the kingdom’s military force was concentrated at the center, defending the nobles there. That was the current state of the Kingdom of Ridill, under Duke Clockford’s pervasive influence.

That’s why I have to change things, they told themselves, quickly returning to their own room. There, they opened a locked drawer and pulled an object out from the back.

To some, it may have looked like a broach, with its goldwork and shining red jewel. But a closer inspection would reveal three sturdy rivets behind the decorative frame. This item was meant to be stuck into a wall or floor and fixed there.

…It’s only a matter of time before the heir is decided… Using this is my last option.

They could use it only once, so they’d have to be very careful.

Now that so many outside contractors are coming in and out in preparation for the school festival, it’s the perfect opportunity… If I time it right, according to what supplies are coming in…

They gazed down at the object resting on their palm, their face hardening into grim resolve.

Behind the veil of a relaxing day off, evil had quietly begun to act.